


Bothered

by terryreviews



Category: Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
Genre: AO3 1 Million, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 14:25:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1188543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terryreviews/pseuds/terryreviews
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Maybe I shouldn't have bothered!" Ford shouted back. </p><p>Ford has some regrets about taking Arthur along for the ride, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bothered

**Author's Note:**

> Ford has some regrets about taking Arthur along for the ride. That's something I believe we all remember reading. The ever looming question as to why Arthur, the whole mess of it, the "it seemed like a good idea". Here is my version of that point coming to head. I haven't written anything for this fandom in YEARS so...I hope that it is alright. Let me know?
> 
> Happy Late Valentine's Day

"Maybe I shouldn't have bothered!" Ford shouted back. His unnaturally tight face doing its best impersonation of emotions other than being hoopy or whatever the hell that was. His chest heaved for a moment as he glared at the human.

At this, Arthur felt a surge, a primevil, instinctual rage from the previously untapped portion of the ape decendent's brain. Only once before had Arthur come close to true anger and even then it had been over shadowed by shock and greif for it had come at the sight of his home being destroyed before rapidly becoming aware of alien life and subsequently the destruction of his entire planet. True, unfiltered emotion that typically he'd keep to himself since his feeling mainly went underminded even by the one who brought him here in the first place.

"Ford!" He yelled. Actually yelled. Not a panicked state of raised voices or flustered, scared rushes of words. A good, proper yell full of importance and wanting to be heard, to which Ford looked mildly like a mouse who'd peeked out of it's hole only to meet the house cat. _Good,_ Arthur thought, _after all the surprizes the man's put me through..._

"In case it has escaped your notice, _I_ am not doing overly well."

"Probably from all that not-quite-tea you keep trying to drink." If Ford had an actual grasp of sarcasim, Arthur would've thought he was making a joke to lighten the mood. But he knew better, and the mood stubbornly stayed somber.

"Ford!" That earned a silent snap of his friend's jaw. "Remember back on Earth, all those nights you drank yourself into a stupor and would stare at the sky looking for saucers? Remember how no one actually believed you were an alien, which meant no one could truly appreciate what you were going through?" Arthur waited for an answer. When none came he crossed his arms and said none to pleasantly, "well?"

"Well what?" The typical nonchalance of Ford's voice actually had the decency to tremble a fraction.

"Do. You. Remember?"

Ford stared at him, before looking away, "Yes."

"Feeling lost and alone? Never thinking you'd get out into all this again?" Arthur swung his arms around to the interior of the ship.

"Yes, Arthur! Zarking Zarquon, what's gotten into you? Zaphod already thinkis you're the most uncool thing to come out of the Milky Way and..."

"I don't give a damn about being cool!" And neither should you!" He pointed a finger at him, "Wasn't very cool of you to fall onto my floor, drunk and crying about your home every other week. Or making a complete fool of yourself and pass out on a barstool so that I'd have to come and collect you, was it?" Arthur stamped a foot. He could get a hang of this rage thing.

"Arthur..."

"No! Remember all of that and understand that's how _I_ feel. Except, unlike you, I _never_ have the chance of going home! All of it is gone! Completely gone. And no one gives a damn! And now I'm stuck out here with no clue what to do, with your idiot cousin insulting me every five seconds, and all you've given me is a damn towl! What the hell am I going to do with this!" From its restful perch upon his shoulder, the towel now found itself thrown quite harshly at the floor. Though the soft fabric thump belated the fierocity the thrower intended. 

Arthur panted, not caring for once that he was behaving in a very emotional state of hysteria that Ford often told him not to panic. He panted, his throat hurt, and he developed a headache.

Ford, for his part, looked the appropriate amount of shock for one experiencing a real outburst from their typically meek best friend. Rather human of him, Arthur thought for a moment. Gapping mouth, wide eyes, before shaking his head and returning his eyes to Arthur's.

"Arthur Dent, I'm...sorry."

So improble was it to have Ford Prefect apologize for _anything_ that the figures for the equation to figure out such a near impossilbe occurance actually was a combination of both Arthur and Ford's previous phone numbers back from Earth.

"What did you say?" Arthur's hands rested on his side and he stared at Ford as if seeing him for the first time.

"I said I'm sorry." Ford mumbled. Those words had enough trouble forming in his mind let alone coming out of his mouth.

"I thought you did."

"Not for saving you." He turned his eyes back to ensure he was looking Arthur in the face for this. "I am not sorry for saving you from that backwater hole."

"Hey!"

"But I am sorry for how bad you seem to have it. I didn't realize how... _much_ this would be for you."

The silence grew thick around them. Both shifting their feet. Arthur swollowed, Ford stared.

"So, you don't actually regret me then?"  
  


"No. I don't Arthur." Ford whispered.  
  


"Oh, good then."

 

More shuffling, adjusting of body parts and clothes that didn't need adjusting. All the rage Arthur had been so proud to have built up drained from him, leaving a cooled, almost embaressed shell. The human had looked away, at the floor now. So fixated on the piece of hair on the floor he'd found to distract him for the situation at hand, he hadn't notice until it was being pressed into his hands the towel Ford was handing back to him.

"You are going to need this." 

Arthur nodded, and put it back over his shoulder.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

  
Had he been looking, he would've seen the smile forming. The one that made him feel Ford was about to go for his throat. But he wasn't looking, so it came as a surprise when a pair of smooth skinned, thin lips pressed against his in a firm kiss. Just as Arthur began to unwind his muscles, preparing to wrap his arms around the smaller man's body, Ford pulled away.

"You're going to need a lot more of that too."

Arthur nodded, eyes now lidded, cheeks warmed.

"Come on Arthur, lets go to the bridge and see what's going on."

If they held hands all the way before making it to the bridge, neither mentioned it.


End file.
